No Such Thing As a Lost Cause
by kitkatritrat
Summary: How Hermione deals with things after the war, for my friend Glowgatch67. A Neville/Luna (and therefore slightly AU) and Romione one-shot. -Kit Kat


_**I don't own Harry Potter, or Artemis Fowl, or an iPod that works, for that matter. I don't make any money off this. **_

_**This is **__**NOT **__**a Draco/Hermione romance. There is an attempted friendship, but NOOOO romance. Plenty of Romione and some good Neville/Luna, though.**_

_**This fic is devoted to my friend Glowgatch67, who is an avid Neville/Luna shipper and an AMAZING real-life friend. Glows, I hope you enjoy the AF references.**_

_**-Kit Kat **_

_Crack._

Hermione watched the Elder Wand break into two pieces. She was tired and dirty, her bushy hair hung in dreadlocks, and her left arm was bleeding. The sun rose steadily over the beautiful grey-brick castle, which was now crumbling in places, as Harry flung the remains of the wand into the lake. Stone-faced, she watch the pieces disappear in the murky blue-green depths.

"It's over," Ron said plainly. They both knew what he meant. Voldemort was dead. The Chosen One and his friends could finally rest and forget about burning scars and Death Eaters.

A cry rose from the castle. Hermione could see through the ancestral windows the hustle and bustle. People were dying with bleeding wounds. The older students helped teachers levitate the dead outside. Those who had survived were hugging loved ones and crying tears of joy. Madam Pomfrey scuttled around mending broken bones and administrating potions of various colors.

"It's over," Hermione agreed, "but that doesn't mean it's the end. There's still more to be done."

"You want to go help?" Harry asked, jerking his head toward the castle.

"Yes, I do."

Ron took her hand in his. It was equally dirty, but she didn't' mind.

"I'll come with you," he offered. She nodded.

"If you don't mind," Harry said, "I'm going to go up to Gryffindor Tower. I need to think."

"Sure, mate," Ron said, and he and Hermione turned and began walking together to the castle.

~~~~oOo~~~~

Madam Pomfrey smiled as Hermione offered to help.

"Of course you can, dear. I've taken the neediest patients up to the Hospital Wing. You're most needed there. But, Ronald, would you mind staying here? I need you to help get the wreckage away from doors and whatnot. I'll also need you to help levitate stretchers."

Ron looked at each her, and she nodded at him. If he was needed here, he ought to stay. She wasn't going to be selfish and try to keep him all to herself, as much as she wanted to be with him every living moment.

So Hermione walked out of the Great Hall and to the Hospital Wing. Her mind wandered back to her first days there, and all the other memories she made. She remembered pouring over books late at night, trying to commit to memory this wondrous new world she was so afraid would disappear in a puff of smoke.

The Hospital Wing was bright. Early morning light poured through the windows and graced the crisp white linen sheets. Students who were healthy helped administer to the sick. But Hermione noticed there were far more among the wounded than the not.

"Hermione!" a voice cried, she looked over to her right to see Padma Patil holding a stack of white towels with medicine bottles on top.

"Hermione, I'm so glad you're here. Madam Pomfrey put Parvati and I in charge of this place. Are you good at healing wounds?"

"I can work with Dittany and I've read about the Armanchio Spell. I know how to do it, in theory, but it's rather complicated."

"That's alright," Padma said, handing her a rather large bottle of Essence of Dittany, "never do anything you're not practiced at. You might do more harm than good. Take this and start at end of the row on the farthest right. I've got Luna Lovegood working the other side, and I've got at stack of bandages of there." She gestured to a disarrayed stack of white cloth sitting on a chair in the corner.

Hermione went right to work. She noticed some familiar faces among her patients, and it saddened her. She did her best to console the young ones and make everyone feel a little less pain. She was surprised at how fast Dittany was running out. Hermione made up her mind to be more diligent and only use it on the most serious wounds.

Across the room she could see Luna working patiently with Neville. He was cut and scraped all over, and his head was severely burned from the fiery Sorting Hat Voldemort had placed on his head. Even from where she was standing, wrapping a second year boy's arm in a bandage, she could tell Neville was in serious pain. He was trying to put on a brave face for Luna, who looked a bit distressed, but she watched him flinch every time she touched his head to apply some strange green paste.

Hermione had just finished with the second year when she glanced over to the next in line. She was shocked at who she found there.

Lying almost silently on the hospital bed, except for the occasional low groan, was a pale boy who looked to be in his last year of Hogwarts. His white button-up shirt was half-open and stained with awful partially dried blood. He was still bleeding, he hd an open wound near his chest and crimson blood was still leaking from it. White-blond hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, and he had a black eye.

"Malfoy?"

He was probably in to much pain to reply, but she thought she saw his jaw twitch. He looked half-dead lying there.

"He's quite a sight, isn't he?" said voice behind her. It was Parvati, "he's pretty much a goner. I've given up, anyways. We think he was attacked by Nagini, the snake, that's why the wounds won't heal. There must be some sort of poison in the fangs."

"I know," Hermione replied, "I knew someone who attacked by Nagini before."

"Well, there's not much more we can do. They might be able to help him at St. Mungo's, but we're already carting people there by the dozens, and he's not exactly a top priority."

"What do you mean he's not a top priority?" Hermione asked, confused. If there was still hope, then why not try? He obviously _was_ a top priority, seeing he was dying right in front of their eyes. Sure, he was a hateful two-faced weasel, but he was still a person.

"Perhaps you haven't taken a close enough look at him, Hermione. He's a lost cause in more ways than one."

"Look, Parvati, I know he looks bad, but if there's hope…"

"I told you, maybe you haven't taken a close enough look at him. " Parvati nodded her head at Malfoy.

"I've seen enough to know he's dying, Parvati, and…" Parvati only shook her head. Slowly, she walked over to where Malfoy was lying. Using her wand, she levitated his left arm, which had previously been folded across his chest. It flopped over the side of the bed and his knuckles grazed the floor.

"Oh," Hermione said simply. Bold and black on Malfoy's left forearm was the Dark Mark, contrasting against his ghost white skin.

"He's the reason so many people are dead, Hermione. Him and all his Death Eater friends. I tried, Hermione, but I'm not going to waste any more time and medicine on a _Death Eater_."

"He's still a person, Parvati, even if he is a Death Eater…"

"A Death Eater whose just going to die anyway. I've wasted enough time on him, and I've wasted enough time here trying to convince you not to make the same mistake I did."

As if on cue, a tall brown-haired boy Hermione recognized as Terry Boot hollered over,

"Oi! Parvati! Could I get some help over here? McKinnon got his hand cut off and it's bleeding everywhere."

"Sure, Terry," Parvati answered, and then to Hermione, "look, I've told you, he's a lost cause in more ways than one." She then hurried away to help Boot.

Hermione looked down at Malfoy. Would she really be wasting her time? Then she thought _If he dies, when I look back on it, will I forever feel guilty I stood by and did nothing?_

Then she got to work.

First, she washed all of the blood off of him. She tried apply Dittany, but when she did it seemed to have very little or no effect. She eventually decided to slather it with a less effective healing ointment and wrap his entire chest in bandages. This was quite difficult considering he was much heavier then her. She knew others could see her, but no one came to help. The Patil sisters seemed to purposely avoid her. Hermione could tell Luna was too focused on healing Neville's burns to help anyone else. Terry Boot would glance over occasionally, almost sorrowfully. Then his eyes would drift to Malfoy's arm and he would shake his head and turn his attention back to his previous preoccupation.

Eventually, Hermione had to move on to the person next in line. There were less and less people were in the Hospital Wing now, as they were being carted off to St. Mungo's. Even as Hermione worked she couldn't seem to turn her mind from Malfoy. He just lay there, barely breathing.

"Hermione," said Padma, "Let me take that from you" -she took the bottle of J. Spiro's Magical Cure-All Potion-" you've been working for awhile. Most the needier patients are gone, and Terry, Parvati, Hannah and I seem to have them covered. You should rest. Don't you have parents you need to talk to?"

Hermione managed a smile, "My parents are in Australia. They don't have a daughter, for all they know."

"Oh," Padma replied, "still, you need to take a break. Like I said before, we have it covered."

"Alright, I'll take a break."

Hermione, being Hermione, had the idea that 'taking a break' meant going to help Luna.

"How are you doing, Neville?" she asked softly.

"Aw, just burns will heal," he attempted a smile. What really appeared was a grimace, "and I'm in good hands."

"Neville's right, he's going to be okay. He's just got to _stay put_," Luna shook her head, "he keeps saying he wants to help downstairs."

"I really hope you feel better, Neville." For the first, she thought she saw a flicker of doubt cross Neville's face.

"I hope I do, too."

~~~~oOo~~~~

"_Wingardium Leviosa_."

A dozen witch and wizard voices echoed together as they lifted rocks and debris from they ground. It was moved, mid-air, over to a pile in the corner of the hall. Filch swept the dirty floor muttering endless things under his breath no one could understand.

"Come on, everyone," Kingsley said loudly, "Let's move this big one together." He gestured over to the largest rock, almost a boulder.

Ron and Hermione stood side by side, wands raised, helping the clean-up. Hogwarts was almost empty now, with everyone going back to see their families and spread the good news that Voldemort was dead. Only a few remained, such as the Weasleys and those still in the Hospital Wing. Once the large rock was moved into the pile Kingsley once again addressed the people left.

"Okay, everyone, thank you for helping, but you need to go home. I'm sure Hogwarts will soon again be in it's former glory. I need to go and resume my duties as Minister of Magic. The rest of you look tired, you should go home and sleep."

Everyone nodded. They started filing out the door, which was still partially demolished.

"Come, dears," Mrs. Weasley said cheerfully, "let's go home. We have much to celebrate." Mrs. Weasley's face was a strange mingled of tears of grief and of joy. The world was saved and her family safe, but she had lost a son that. Then again, she had also gained one back.

"I think I'll stay here," Hermione said.

"What?" Ron asked, astonished, "Hermione, what are you talking about?"

"Ron…I…" her mind drifted to the Hospital Wing, and to Malfoy. Would anyone care for him in her absence? Would he die alone? And where were his parents? "I'm needed here."

"You heard Kingsley, though, we should go home and rest."

"Ron, please, I'll be home tonight." Ron smiled at her. He took her hand.

"I guess I'll see you tonight."

~~~~oOo~~~~

When Hermione reached the Hospital Wing she discovered it deserted. Even Madam Pompfrey had gone home to be with loved ones. Neville had been taken to his Gran's. The room was quiet and empty except for a single soul.

Hermione walked over to Malfoy's bed. His breathing was more rugged than ever and the blood was beginning to seep through the bandages again. The was a folded over piece of paper taped to the bed railing. It read,

_Wounded. Wounds fatal. Lost cause._

Hermione felt herself choking up. There had been a lot of crying today. But this was perhaps the saddest. Sure, he was a cowardly stuck-up weasel, but he was still a human being. Hermione could understand the hatred towards the Death Eaters. They had killed and tortured so many, torn so many families apart. But Draco was just a boy, just someone who got mixed up with the wrong crowd.

She picked up the paper and unfolded it. Inside was a letter.

_To Whoever It May Concern,_

_ Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy fled under the impression their son had done so also after the falsely announced death of Harry Potter. By the time they figure out were he is he will have already passed. Case was given up on after the vain attempts of both Miss Parvati Patil and Miss Hermione Granger. _

Hermione sobbed. She wrong out a cloth that had been soaking in water by his bed. She had a feeling the water had been warm at one point but it was cold now. She slowly wiped his forehead and laid the cloth across his pale face. She removed the bandages and cleaned the wound. They seemed to have healed somewhat, but she knew there was still much internal damage.

_But there's still hope, _Hermione thought, _it's healed some, so there's still hope._

She rubbed more medicine on the gash and re-wrapped his body. She was exhausted and tired, and just as the sun set she slumped into sleep, sitting on floor leaning against the hospital bed.

~~~~oOo~~~~

The stars shone brightly in the black midnight sky. The moon cast and eerie light through the window and cast shadows across the room. Hermione awoke to the sound of her surname being muttered in the darkness.

"Granger? _Granger?_"

Startled, she whipped around to face the blonde boy. He was making a fruitless attempt to sit up and look at her.

"Oh, God, he's conscious. Don't…don't sit up…you'll hurt yourself."

"Merlin, Granger, what am I doing here? Where are my parents?"

"I…I don't know…I…here"-she took the cloth that had fallen off his head, wet it again, and placed it back above his stormy grey eyes-"wear this."

"Get your hands off me, Mudblood!"

Hermione felt as through someone had slapped her. She had spent all night trying to heal this ungrateful pig and here he was insulting her.

"If it wasn't for me, Malfoy, you'd be dead."

"Well, thanks, but I think I'd rather die."

"Why you ungrateful little…"

"I'm sure I would have lived."

"Would you?"

Malfoy looked down at his bandaged chest. The pain even to lift his head was too much and he flopped down on the bed.

"Fine," he snapped, "I just don't like being in debt to Mud-"

"Don't. Call. Me. That. And you're not in _in debt _to anyone Mouseboy, I'm leaving." Hermione picked her jacket up off the bed railing were she'd left it. She began to walk out. She was halfway hoping for some sort of an apology to follow, but considering it was Malfoy, that probably wasn't going to happen. Then she heard a bridging grunt from behind her.

"Thank you, Granger."

Hermione couldn't help but hold back a smile. Over her shoulder, she replied,

"Be a good boy and maybe next time I'll give you a lollipop after your procedure." Now it was Malfoy turn to appeared shocked. Rather disturbed and confused, her pitifully retorted,

"I don't like lollipops." *

~~~~oOo~~~~

There was a hard knock on the Weasley's front door not thirty minutes afterwords.

"Hermione!" Mrs. Weasley cried, giving her a bear hug and ushering her inside, "Ron said you said you'd be home this evening. My dear, it's almost three in the morning. We all were so worried…"

Sadly, Mrs. Weasley didn't manage to get another word in (something very rare for Mrs. Weasley) because Ron quickly pulled her away.

"Hermione! Where have you been? I've been worried sick. You said you'd be home earlier. We almost sent out a search party…"

"Mum, Ron, give the girl some room to breath, " Ginny interjected. For the first time, Hermione looked around the room. They were all huddle in the living room old the Weasley's old furniture. Most were wrapped in blankets and clutching a cup of something hot. Hermione joined everyone, sitting next to Ron on the tattered violet love-seat. She proceeded to tell them about Malfoy as Mr. Weasley handed her a mug of hot chocolate.

"Serves him right," Ron said once Hermione had finished her story, "the backstabbing weasel ."

"He's still a human being Ron," Ginny added, "Can't we just forgive and forget?"

"Forget?" Harry spoke for the first time. He was seated next to Ginny, holding her hand, "You think I'll forget? Do you think I'm going to forget what they did? That they killed Tonks and Lupin and Dobby and.."

George laughed quietly, "It's like riding a unicorn. You never forget." *

Harry gave him a very confused look.

"Sorry, mate," George apologized, "It's an inside joke between me and…" George drifted off into silence.

"The thing is Hermione, you did the right thing," Ginny conceded.

"Did she?" Harry asked her solemnly.

"Look," Percy said, "I should know something about being forgiving, and I say that if you're truly sorry, than me not forgiving him makes me a hypocrite."

"But is he truly sorry?" Ron asked, "Is he sorry at all?"

"I doubt it," Harry replied.

"We should all get to bed," Mrs. Weasley advised sensibly.

Slowly, they all trudged upstairs to bed.

Hermione fell asleep that night listening to the owls hoot outside. She slept on the floor in Ginny's room. The sheets were old but soft.

~~~~oOo~~~~

Hermione woke up the next morning to a glorious sunrise. She hurried downstairs to see everyone seated around the breakfast table.

"It's says here," Mr. Weasley stated, as he shook his morning paper, "in the _Daily Prophet _that the trial for multiple Death Eater suspects is next week. The accused include Lucius Malfoy, Antonin Dolohov, Alecto Carrow, Draco Malfoy…"

Ron looked down the table at Hermione, who was seated quite rigidly and clutching her fork in a disturbing manner.

"You tried to help him, Hermione, that's all you could do. You tried to be his friend."

"But I failed."

"No, Hermione, you didn't fail. He healed him. He's alive, even if he didn't deserve it."

She smiled.

~~~~oOo~~~~

_Six years later_

Hermione sat on the marble bench, holding Ron's hand. It was more than half a decade since the war had ended, and things were finally at peace. Piano music began to float around the chapel. Together, the entire congregation rose. A small girl ran down the center aisle throwing daisy petals everywhere. Neville stood at the front, looking proud but nervous. Slowly, Luna Lovegood walked down the white carpet, barefoot, wearing a princess-style dress.

"Neville and Luna," Ron whispered into her ear, "who would have guessed?"

"Oh, I don't know," Hermione whispered back, "I think I did."

**For the Failed Relationships competition and the Love Hate Relationships competition.**

*An Artemis Fowl reference


End file.
